


Best Foot Forward

by ladysparkles



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Foot Fetish, M/M, sort of a foot fetish more of foot experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6847198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysparkles/pseuds/ladysparkles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Erik is going to put his feet in Charles' territory, then Charles has no choice but to inspect the intrusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Foot Forward

**Author's Note:**

> My friend is, like, reaaaaaallly into feet, so this is honestly no more than fan service as I dust off the cobwebs of my writing muscles (sometimes known as fingers)

Sometimes Erik thought that if Charles did something that he was allowed to do the exact same thing even if circumstances were completely different. For instance, in the event that Erik was already sprawled out on the sofa with his long legs stretched out the full lengths of the kitchens, Charles would response by sitting on the opposite side between Erik’s feet and in turn would stretch his legs out towards Erik. Since Charles wasn’t very tall his feet only landed around Erik’s chest.

But Erik thought that this was something he was entitled to do the same. Charles had situated himself first and when Erik came around, like Charles he sat on the opposite side and allowed his feet to extend as far out as possible. Whereas Charles was incapable of overly encroaching on Erik’s space due to his size, Erik’s feet ended up quite literally in Charles’ face.

Charles cleared his throat and tried to give Erik a warning look, but Erik had focused on his book and didn’t notice. First, Charles considered just pushing Erik away. Then he entertained the possibility of tickling or going after Erik in such a way to aggravate him into returning to his own side. But before Charles did any of that, he was distracted by the personal sight of Erik’s feet, but really it went further up to more of his leg.

As far as Charles could comfortably reach was Erik’s knee. As soon as he placed his thumb and forefinger on Erik’s kneecap to squeeze, Erik snapped to attention.

“What are you doing?” He asked, more out of confusion that any true discomfort.

“Sorry, just feeling,” Charles answered.

Erik eyed him suspiciously for a second then looked away.

Charles had no interest in stopping though, the first grasp had piqued his interest. He used both hands to trace down the curve of Erik’s calf. From his knee, which was no much more than just bone, quickly bulged out into firm muscle, which despite the pale color was strong and forceful beneath Charles’ persistent pressure. He wasn’t deterred in the slightest by the repeated confused thoughts emanating from Erik’s lovely brain. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, Erik received praise for his intellect and appearance. Charles knew that for a fact because it usually originated from him, although other students and teachers were likely to think it, which Charles was more than happy to repeat to Erik in a soft whisper whenever the time was right. But right now wasn’t for Erik’s mind, or face, or anything that he was going to be an active participant in for that matter. Charles had been given the opportunity to fixate on the renaissance sculpture that is Erik Lehnsherr and dammit, he wasn’t about to waste it by getting distracted.

After a nearly hypnotic excursion around the widest part of Erik’s calf, wherein Charles traced the circumference over and over again, admiring the feeling and the sight every time, Charles discovered a vein more prominent than all the rest branching downward. He used his pinky, the gentlest of all his digits to follow the river as it guided him down to where the muscle tapered off into prominent bones of Erik’s ankle. Unlike the muscular calf which Charles could barely grasp with two hands, he could easily fit one around Erik’s boney ankle. But what it lacked in size it made up for in control, keeping even and straight no matter what. Despite Charles’ earlier conviction that this was his moment, he chanced a look up at Erik’s face. Erik wasn’t watching Charles, instead his eyes were half closed and distant, serene looking. Charles smiled to himself, this was nowhere near poetic justice but if it felt good to everyone involved, then it would do.

Only once he felt he had truly prepared himself, did Charles follow the sensitive line of Erik’s Achilles tendon, which had a nearly perfect soft curve, down to his heel. Now he had to be more careful to not overstimulate Erik and completely kill the mood. But it was difficult to control himself as he fixated on the way Erik’s foot subtly arched naturally. When Charles delicately touched the sensitive bottom of Erik’s foot, Erik tensed up and reflexively pointed his toes, which exaggerated the arch and emphasized the simple grace that nobody wanted to acknowledge Erik possessed. Charles lined his fingers up with each of the metatarsals and smoothly skimmed down their length to Erik’s long toes. Finally Charles peeked back up at Erik’s face which was beginning to blush as he was watching Charles’ hands with a mixture of confusion, apprehension, and embarrassment that Charles recognized wasn’t far from boiling over into forcing Erik to recede away from him.

Charles sighed. “I thought you were supposed to be smart,” he teased as his mouth got closer and closer to Erik’s foot, to the point that he was talking to it more than to Erik. “Why are you acting clueless about this?”

Erik recognized a rhetorical question from Charles—of course every question from a telepath can be construed as rhetorical—and let him continue doing... whatever it was exactly that Charles thought he was doing. There was plenty of metal nearby that he could force Charles away from him, but as much as he instinctively wanted to be mortified over his sort-of-boyfriend worshipping his feet, he also felt a blossoming sense of flattery. If that was Charles’ goal, this was a damn weird way to approach it.

Charles was still smiling craftily as he brought Erik’s foot up to eye level so that the rest of Erik faded from vision, and held it like it was a priceless art piece not connected to a living being. He confidently pushed forward and kissed Erik’s toes one by one, leaving the biggest toe for last with an extra for good luck on the protrusion of the joint of his biggest toe. It was the only thing about the entire landscape of Erik’s leg that wasn’t perfect, but it was perfect because it made Erik real and not actually a work of art. Also making Erik real was the fact that Erik was now squirming at the brushes of Charles’ fingers against the underside of his foot.

“If you’re not careful I’m going to kick you in the face and I’d really hate to do that but it wouldn’t be my fault.” Erik warned.

Charles gave one last kiss to the center of Erik’s sole.

“Now put it back where it belongs.”

Charles dropped it and Erik’s heel landed with a soft thud. “How about you put it back where it belongs?”

Erik’s eyes flashed with amusement peppered with a strong hint of adoration towards Charles as he pulled his legs far away Charles and crossed them securely under his own protection. “Creep.” He whispered.

Charles grinned back. There wasn’t a single part that wasn’t worth it.


End file.
